


Okay, Maybe, Fine

by jensenackals, NewerConstellations



Series: Starry-Eyed - One Shots by NewerConstellations [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben is okay with that, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Forcebond flirting, Rey always attacks first, Shut Up Kiss, irritating sand rat, okay fine, tired Ben Solo, why do you have to be so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-07-14 18:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensenackals/pseuds/jensenackals, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewerConstellations/pseuds/NewerConstellations
Summary: If only he could get that garbage picker out of his mind, maybe Ben Solo could get some sleep.Yet every time he closes his eyes, there she is behind his lids, as feral and vicious as a tooka-cat, spitting mad in her furious beauty.“Are you saying you like me or not?” she asks, eyes fierce.He throws the question back at her.  “Are you saying YOU like ME or not?”She pulls back, frowning, as if he just said something ridiculous.  “I’m saying I like you,” she asserts.He takes a step closer, emboldened.  “Well, then, I’m saying I like you.”Her voice lowers, and she walks even closer.  He could almost reach out and grab her now.





	Okay, Maybe, Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jensenackals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensenackals/gifts).



> Go see the brilliant photoset that inspired this drabble: http://prinecssleia.tumblr.com/post/177983942399/wait-this-didnt-happen-insp
> 
> Thanks for letting me write a few words to match your great images, @prinecssleia!

If only he could get that garbage picker out of his mind, maybe Ben Solo could get some sleep.

 

Yet every time he closes his eyes, there she is behind his lids, as feral and vicious as a tooka-cat.  In his dreams he sees her wide eyes narrowed down to green slits, her full lips drawn into a sneer, that little crinkle above her freckled nose form when she’s about to lash out at him.  

 

She’s spitting mad in her furious beauty, and it’s distracting.

 

In his dreams, as in real life, Rey of Jakku is a consternation.  She’s a tiny ball of concentrated energy, like a dwarf star, ready to explode in indignation at the slightest prompting.  And yet  _ he’s the one _ with the reputation for temper tantrums.

 

She’s absolutely infuriating.

 

+++

 

She has always been a burr in his side.

 

In the first Forcebond, she had tried to shoot him.

 

The second, he had remained calm.  “Why is the Force connecting us?” he had asked her, ever the intellectual and diplomat. 

 

“Murderous snake!” she spat out in reply, quite unfairly in his opinion.  It was all he could do to keep from hissing in response.

 

How could someone so naturally powerful in the Force, a supposed Jedi, be as incredibly agitating?  Where was the peace and irritatingly passionless discourse that was the hallmark of the Jedi? 

 

She was instinctive and impetuous, aggressive and bold, the antithesis of calm serenity and balance.  The scavenger would have made a most excellent Sith, full of power, passion and fire. 

 

What a waste.  Obviously, the Force had a terrible sense of humor.

 

Oh, he tried with her, did he ever try!  He offered to teach her. He wanted to figure out the ways of the Force with her.

He even reached out a hand to her in partnership, a merging of equals, a union of strength.

 

And how did she respond to his generous offers of mentorship and of union?  First she sliced him down, and then she left him unconscious in the smoke-filled rubble.  

 

Not very lightside, if you ask him.

 

The girl, in her stubborn, pig-headed and misguided independence had refused him.

 

Then, fine, he would refuse her, too.

 

If only he could sleep.

 

+++

 

After Crait, they play the silent game without fail whenever the bond unexpectedly snaps alive between them.  They’re as equally-matched in stubbornness as they are in power, so neither relents or will break the silence first.

 

They’ve both tried to keep the connection closed, but that takes a lot of energy.  Inevitably, even powerful Force users get tired. Sometimes you’re just a little too worn down, or maybe a little too lonely, to keep your attractive counterpart across the galaxy out of your mind.

 

It happens.

 

So here she is again, angry and disappointed, scowling beautifully as always, and he has to turn away and feign disgust to hide the relief in his eyes.

 

She hasn’t seen him yet, but she has to know he’s there.

 

Ben’s standing on the bridge alone, having just dismissed Hux with a force choke just to remind him that he can, and he clasps his hands nervously behind his back.  She still hasn’t said anything.

 

In all honesty, he’s bored.  He’s happy to see her. It’s dull as hell being Supreme Leader.  The climb itself and who you toppled over on the way up is far more rewarding than the day-to-day bureaucracy of galaxy-running and the politics of not being assassinated.  But you couldn’t just walk away from being king of the universe, now could you? 

 

He wondered.  _  Can you? _

 

He hears splashing sounds and turns to watch her.  She’s reaching out a graceful hand to catch rainwater in her cupped palm, then lifts it up to her rosy lips to drink.

 

_ Kriff. _

 

“Don’t tell me the resistance scum can’t properly nourish their prize Jedi?”  He broke their silent stalemate without thought, the opportunity for a dig far too tempting to ignore.

 

She rewards him with a frown.  “Your blockade keeps many people hungry,  _ your highness _ .”  Her tone drips with sarcasm, but it still gives him a tiny thrill to hear her voice, nonetheless.  

 

Perhaps that’s why he impetuously tells her what he really thinks.  

 

“If you were with me, I’d make sure you were properly fed and taken care of.”

 

Her head snaps back and her frown dissolves into confusion.  He’s unarmed her, and he enjoys that fact immensely. 

 

She cocks her head at him cautiously, as if examining a new species.  “I would think you’d ensure my quick execution. Isn’t that what all the bounty posters say?”

 

He takes a step closer, bolder after catching the look in her eyes.  “You know very well I wouldn’t do that.”

 

She narrows her eyes.  “Because you still think you can train me?  Turn me to your side?” 

 

She steps closer, challenging him, the corner of her lip pulling back in what could be the start of a grin or a sneer, it could honestly go either way. 

 

He shakes his head.  “Oh, no, I’ve given up on that idea.  You can’t be tamed.”

 

It’s a grin.  “No, I can’t. None of us can, I’m just one of many.”

 

He hasn’t worn an actual mask in months, but his face as Supreme Leader is typically drawn tight in a defensive facade that he carefully crafted over years of hiding his true feelings from Snoke.  In typical fashion, the sand rat slices right through it, instantly. 

 

He knows his eyes tell her absolutely everything, so his lips follow suit.

 

“You’re the only one who counts.”

 

She swallows thickly.  He meets her gaze, sees the remnants of her anger drip away into something no less heated.

 

Bold, impetuous, feral.   _ His scavenger.   _

 

“Are you saying you like me or not?” she asks, eyes fierce.

 

He throws the question back at her.  “Are you saying YOU like ME or not?”

 

She pulls back, frowning, as if he just said something ridiculous.  “I’m saying I like you,” she asserts.

 

He takes a step closer, emboldened.  “Well, then, I’m saying I like you.” 

 

Her voice lowers and she walks even closer.  He could almost reach out and grab her now. 

 

“Fine!”  She juts out her chin proudly, an aggressive stance, but he can see from where he stands how her chest rises with her shallow breaths and the slight parting of her pink lips.

 

“Fine!  Then I guess we are dating!”  His words fall out fast, more confident than he feels, but his eyes fall to her mouth as she slowly licks her lips.  

 

“Fine!”  she grits out, and leans forward on the balls of her feet, shifting her weight as if she’s preparing to pounce.

 

“Fine!”  he says in a low rumble, opening his fists at his sides, preparing for her assault.

 

The words are barely off his lips when she jumps up at him and loops her arms around his neck as he catches her by the waist, their mouths crashing together in clumsy, angry kisses as he pulls her closer with a grunt.  Their tongues duel, lips bite and suck, and her fingers tug a little too hard at the hair at the nape of his neck while his fingertips leave bruises on the soft skin of her hips and ass.

 

The force hums around them, alive and tangled, as they wind themselves together like a braid, anger converting seamlessly to passion of a different sort.  

 

They’ll always remember this moment when that fine line between them snapped and they gave in to the inevitability of their destinies.

 

Rey is still, and evermore, the first to attack.

  
  



End file.
